


Someone You Might Have Been

by Luka



Series: Iceman [6]
Category: Primeval
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-06-04
Updated: 2008-06-04
Packaged: 2017-10-11 23:41:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/118440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luka/pseuds/Luka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>  Nick gets some advice from two unexpected sources</p>
            </blockquote>





	Someone You Might Have Been

  
  
  
  
  


**Entry tags:**

| 

  
[connor](http://lukadreaming.livejournal.com/tag/connor), [fiction](http://lukadreaming.livejournal.com/tag/fiction), [helen](http://lukadreaming.livejournal.com/tag/helen), [iceman](http://lukadreaming.livejournal.com/tag/iceman), [lyle](http://lukadreaming.livejournal.com/tag/lyle), [nick](http://lukadreaming.livejournal.com/tag/nick), [series](http://lukadreaming.livejournal.com/tag/series), [slash](http://lukadreaming.livejournal.com/tag/slash), [stephen](http://lukadreaming.livejournal.com/tag/stephen)  
  
  
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Title:  Someone You Might Have Been  
Author: Luka  
Characters: Nick Cutter, Jon Lyle, Stephen Hart, Connor Temple, Helen Cutter  
Rating: 18  
Disclaimer: Not mine, I'm just playing and won't make a penny out of them. I'll put them back when I'm finished, honest!  
Spoilers: Series 1  
Pairing: Stephen/Ryan  
Summary:  Nick gets some advice from two unexpected sources  
A/N: Number six in The Iceman series. There are links to the earlier stories under the cut. Jon Lyle appears by kind permission of [](http://fredbassett.livejournal.com/profile)[**fredbassett**](http://fredbassett.livejournal.com/). And many thanks to Fred for the beta!

  
[](http://lukadreaming.livejournal.com/2008.html#cutid1)

  
[A Fire is Burning](http://lukadreaming.livejournal.com/2008.html#cutid1)   
[We Could Leave Right Now](http://lukadreaming.livejournal.com/4534.html#cutid1)   
[This Year Next Year](http://lukadreaming.livejournal.com/4748.html#cutid1)   
[All That Way for This](http://lukadreaming.livejournal.com/5207.html#cutid1)   
[Ways of Holding On](http://lukadreaming.livejournal.com/6901.html#cutid1)

  
"This camera's mega! I'll download the photos now, professor. And I promise I'll keep this one well away from the magnetic field!"

Cutter nodded and left Connor to it. This was the third camera in as many weeks that Lester had reluctantly authorised – the others had all been sucked through into another era. For an intelligent person, Connor could be terminally stupid sometimes when it came to venturing too close to the anomaly field. Nick had stopped lending him pens after his favourite one had disappeared at speed into the Permian.

He knew the student wasn't exactly David Bailey, but some of the pictures might be worth keeping for when he started writing up. Or should that be if? He was willing to bet that Lester would keep the lid on the project until they were all old and grey or, more likely, knowing his lousy luck, the unbelievable saga would go with him to his grave.

Cutter scrolled through the pictures. Most were unusable – Connor's speciality was cutting off people's heads – but one or two were worth keeping. And then, right at the end, he found the one of Stephen.

He was in a shaft of sunlight, looking up at something. His hair was short and spiky, his neck long and slender, and his cheekbones perfect. Nick had never before considered that a man might be seen as beautiful – but the word came to mind here. And he couldn't take his eyes off the photo.

Nick realised, to his horror, that he was hard. He unzipped his jeans and wanked himself off, imagining Stephen's strong fingers around his cock. It felt good. But then he felt dirty, horrified at what he'd done. He scrubbed his hands under the hot tap until they were red, then deleted the photo – and spent the rest of the day recreating it in his mind's eye. Nick was just glad that Stephen had taken a day's leave. He knew he'd never have been able to look at him without blushing.

***  


Stephen came into work on Monday as if he was floating on air. He couldn't stop smiling, and at one point Nick, who was nursing the hangover from hell, caught him whistling. This wasn't the reserved, cool Stephen he'd known for so long. Then Nick looked again and it all became clear – Stephen was wearing a gold ring on his left hand. Every so often Stephen would glance at it and touch it when he thought Nick wasn't looking. It looked fabulous against his long fingers.

"Did Ryan give you that?" Nick's voice was slightly hoarse.

Stephen nodded.

"Congratulations."

"Thank you."

"Are you and he going to …?"

"It's early days yet …" Stephen didn't look up, continuing to write up a grant application that Nick should have done a month ago.

"Shall I do that?"

"No point. I've almost finished it now."

"Thanks. You want to go for a pint in a minute?"

"No thanks." Still no eye contact.

"Stephen, you know I'm sorry for how I behaved …"

"Just for once, Nick, this isn't all about you … I know you want to try to be friends again, but you bloody hurt me and you can't mend that just by buying me a drink. And to be brutally honest, I haven't got much to say to you at the moment. I'd rather spend my time outside of work with Ryan, thanks."

Stephen stood up and picked up his rucksack. "I've filled in this application. D'you think you can manage to put it into an envelope and take it to the post room?"

Nick nodded, struck dumb by Stephen's bluntness. And he sat, head in his hands, at his desk for quite some time after his assistant had gone. He knew that he deserved the coldness. And he realised he was jealous, knowing damn well that there was no one who loved him and treated him like he was special.

***  


He'd passed the pub every day of his working life. The fact that it was a gay pub had barely registered – until today. And so he found himself at the bar ordering a pint, and trying not to stare at the punters. Most of them didn't look queer, but then neither did Stephen or Ryan.

Nick took his drink to a table in the corner. He leaned back, closing his eyes, and jumped a mile when a voice said: "Can I join you, professor?"

It was Lyle, Ryan's colleague. All Cutter could do was stare at him, as the soldier hooked a chair out with his foot and sat down. He was a good-looking guy – a younger, tougher version of the actor they'd got playing James Bond at the moment. Nick hadn't had much to do with him, but Lyle always made him feel uneasy and he didn't know why.

"Come here often, do you?"

Nick shook his head. "I … No …"

"Just seeing what it's like on the other side of the fence?"

"Not exactly …"

"Let me guess. Your nose has been put out of joint by the fact that your gorgeous lab assistant has hit the jackpot with Captain Ryan. You're straight, of course, but all you can do is wonder what it'd be like to take Stephen to bed and to see him smiling at you and writhing as you fuck him, and hear him calling out your name as he comes. Am I getting warm yet?"

"No!"  

"I think I am. Listen to me, professor. Ryan and Stephen are an item. You're not gay and you know fucking well you're not, so stop screwing with your own head and everyone else's."

"You've no fucking right …"

"Shut up, Cutter. You're acting like a homophobic fuckwit. Everyone knows you hit Stephen, and you're bloody lucky a couple of my lads saw sense and didn't deck you in return. They like the captain and Stephen. They don't like arrogant, self-centred twats like you."

Nick stood up, knocking a chair over in his haste. The soldier was leaning back in his chair, a half-smile on his face.

"Not going to finish your drink, professor?"

"Fuck you!"

"I don't think you'd be up to that, sweetie! You'd find me far too much of a handful …"

***  


Nick drank three-quarters of a bottle of Scotch and fell asleep on the sofa. He was woken by the church clock down the road striking 3am. And then he realised he wasn't alone; Helen was curled up in the big armchair, her hands wrapped around a mug of tea.

"Hello, Nick."

"What are you doing here?"

"It's my house as well."

"Actually it isn't any more, given that you've been declared dead. What do you want, Helen?"

"You're drinking too much." She stretched out like a cat, and Nick felt a spike of warmth in his groin.

"So you've nipped back from the Permian to give me health tips?"

"I hear you and Stephen have had a tiff."

"How do you know that?"

"I could have told you ten years ago he was gay. Leave Stephen and the Incredible Hulk to get on with it. You should come with me."

And for the first time he was genuinely tempted. Helen was smiling that lazy smile that had first attracted him to her. He did miss her, despite everything. He missed her formidable brain pushing and testing him constantly. And yes, he missed the sex.

"Helen, I can't … Please stay. I'll square it with Lester. Just think of the books we can write about it all …"

"For an intelligent man you're stunningly naïve. You really think Lester will ever let you publish what you've seen?"

"We'll move abroad … I was sounded out about a job in Australia not so long ago. You could come with me."

"You'll always be alone, Nick," she said dismissively. "Claudia won't wait for you for ever, while you pussy-foot around. And quite why you're mooning over Stephen is beyond me. You're not queer, and you'd lose patience with him after a week. He's needy and high maintenance and just wants to be loved. Now he's got his big macho soldier staring at him devotedly, you haven't got a chance. Get real." She drained the mug of tea and stood up, looking around for her backpack. "See you around, Nick."

"Helen …"

The door slammed behind her. Nick hurled his whisky glass at the wall where it shattered into myriad pieces. He lay on the sofa, staring at the ceiling, until dawn, Helen's words on an endless loop through his brain. He sat up and squinted at the clock. 7am. In an hour he'd phone Claudia. It was time to be honest.  
 


End file.
